


Turn Me On and Turn Me Down

by ShootingtheMoon



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Does it count as mutual masturbation if it's two people in one body?, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShootingtheMoon/pseuds/ShootingtheMoon
Summary: Taking a drag of his cigarette, Johnny leans against the door to V’s stash room and asks, “When’s the last time you got off, anyway?”V hasn't touched herself since Johnny took up residence in her head. He helps her fix that.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Comments: 10
Kudos: 329





	Turn Me On and Turn Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Me, pounding at the door to CD Projekt RED: Let V fuck Johnny, you cowards!
> 
> Title is from Savior Complex by Phoebe Bridgers

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Johnny leans against the door to V’s stash room and asks, “When’s the last time you got off, anyway?”

V’s hand slips as she sharpens her Katana and she nearly slices her palm open. Setting her weapon aside, she turns to Johnny. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, when’s the last time you got off? You know, had sex?”

“Fuck off, Johnny,” V huffs. “None of your business.”

“Been a while, then, huh?” he smirks. V turns the volume up on the radio in an attempt to drown him out. “At least tell me you touch yourself, sometimes.” Fuck. Loud music doesn’t help at all. She always forgets that as real as Johnny seems, his voice is always coming from directly inside her head.

“We are not having this conversation.”

“Unless I missed it,” Johnny continues, ignoring her protests like usual, “I don’t think you’ve touched yourself at all since I showed up. You didn’t even fuck that doll at Clouds. Used the safe word after some damn pillow talk.”

“So?” V rubs her eyes, feeling the beginnings of a now familiar Johnny-induced tension headache. “What d’you care?”

He shrugs. “Just curious. Whether you’ve always been this much of a prude, or if there’s some other reason you’re acting like a nun.”

“I’m not a fucking prude,” V scowls. “I just... Look, even if this is _my_ body, I’m not the only one in it right now. And I make it a point to get everyone in the room’s consent before anything sexual happens.”

“Nice policy, but you don’t gotta worry about my consent, sweetheart. Answer’s probably always gonna be ‘fuck yeah’, and I’ll tell you if it isn’t.” Grinning at her, Johnny drops his cigarette and stamps it out. “Besides, it’s driving me crazy, too. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were on Jig Jig street the other day.” V cringes. She had figured he’d say something, if he picked up the way her eyes kept drifting to the sex shop, how her ears pricked as the Joy Toys called out to her with their purring voices. “Your fucking hormones. Feels like an itch under my skin. Makes me want a smoke.”

V rolls her eyes. “You’re always smoking.”

“You know what I mean. A real one. So it’s either you go light one up—”

“—I told you, only on special occasions—”

“— _Or_ ,” Johnny presses on, “you spend some quality time with yourself. Hell, you could even go pick up a Joy Toy, if you’ve got the eddies to spare.”

V flushes, despite herself. “Fine. Fine, just... Can you go away, for a bit?”

He gives her a two-fingered salute. “Have fun,” he says, and glitches out of existence.

Shaking her head, V exits the stash room, kicking off her pants and dimming the lights. She slides her panties down her legs and lies back on the bed, fingers moving down between her legs. V’s gotten herself off enough to become efficient at it, getting it down to five minutes or less when she just needs to relieve some tension and get to sleep. Problem is, she can’t seem to get into it right now. She’s so dry that the rub of her fingers over her clit is more chaffing than it is pleasurable. She brings them to her mouth to wet them, which makes it better, and she tries to think sexy thoughts, but it’s hard to think about much besides the looming death of her consciousness, at the hands of a terrorist mind parasite.

Speak of the devil. Johnny poofs back into existence, sat leaning against the wall at the other end of the bed. “You’re bad at this,” he comments.

V sighs, pulling her hand away and sitting up. “I’m not used to having an audience.”

“Not much of an exhibitionist, huh?”

“Shut up. It’s just that usually, if there’s someone else in the room, they’re more of an active participant.”

V realizes the accidental invitation of her words just Johnny moves to loom over her, metal arm braced against the headboard. “ _Active participant_ , huh? All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”

“You can’t even touch me,” V says, embarrassed at the slight breathlessness of her voice. It doesn’t escape Johnny’s notice, either, if the quirk of his mouth is any indication.

“No, but _you_ can touch you. And I can tell you how to do it.” He leans in closer, lips to her ear. And maybe V’s just lost her mind that much more, but she swears she can feel the ghost of his breath against her skin. “Start slow. Move your hand down your stomach, run your fingers along the insides of your thighs.”

What V should do, is tell him to fuck off, then down a fistful of omega blockers. But he was right about one thing: It has been awhile. And she sees no real harm in seeing where this goes. After all, wouldn’t it be nice to find one perk to this whole brain parasite thing?

She follows his instructions, goosebumps breaking out on her skin at the trailing touch of her fingertips.

“Good,” Johnny murmurs, and V shivers, nipples pebbling. “Now, I want you to circle around your clit, but don’t touch it yet.” He leans back to watch her as she does it, chuckling at the first touch of moist skin. “Now you’re wet, huh? D’you just like the sound of my voice that much, or is it following orders that gets you off?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” V retorts, legs falling open as she teases around the edges of her clit.

“So it’s the second thing,” Johnny notes. “I can work with that. Put two fingers in.” They slide in easily, though it feels filling, after weeks without anything else up there. “Crook your fingers, and rub...” Her walls clench down, and she gasps.

“Yes,” Johnny says. “Good, just like that. Keep going.” He waits until her hips are twitching up to meet the movements of her fingers before saying, “Now, take your other hand and touch your clit.” She moves almost too fast, betraying her eagerness, and Johnny smirks. “Slower now, sweetheart. Keep it firm, but steady.”

V huffs in annoyance but obeys, losing herself in the slow build of pleasure in the pit of her stomach. “You’re so goddamn stubborn, such a tough bitch out there on the streets, but God, you’d do anything I told you to right now, wouldn’t you? ‘Cause you know I’ll make you feel good, right?” V’s hips buck up and she squeezes her eyes shut tighter. “Answer me,” Johnny demands, the hint of ice in his tone sending a hot stab of desire into V’s gut.

“Yes,” she moans, awash with shame and arousal at the admission.

“Very good,” Johnny purrs. “You’re getting close now, aren’t you?” V nods, hands moving faster as she chases her climax. “Then stop,” Johnny says.

Her body follows the direction before her mind catches up to it. “No!” she shouts, eyes flying open. “Come on, I was so close! I thought the whole point of this was to get me off?”

“You went weeks without; you can wait a few minutes more,” Johnny tells her, sadistic amusement playing out on his features at the distraught look on V’s face. “Besides, this’ll make it better. Do you trust me?”

He likely means it as a simple question, pertaining only to this encounter of theirs, but it carries more weight than that to V as she thinks it over. She trusts him with this, yes, this form of intimacy and vulnerability. But it makes her consider all the other ways she’s grown to trust him, with her thoughts, her secrets, her life. He’s an unwelcome intruder, and may very well be the thing that destroys her, but it’s hard to share a mind with someone and not develop some form of camaraderie. She doesn’t think she’s ever known another person like this. She doesn’t think she’s ever allowed anyone else to know her this way, either. And allowing someone that knowledge demands trust.

“Yes,” she says, finally. If he understands the deeper meaning behind the answer, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Well, you’ve probably cooled off enough by now. Let’s start again.”

He takes her through that same routine, beginning with light teasing, then a torturously slow build to just before she reaches her peak, when he commands her to stop again, and again, and again, until she’s drenched in sweat, whining and squirming while he smiles wickedly at her.

“I know,” he soothes, “but you’re doing so well. Keep going, sweetheart, doesn’t it feel good?”

“Yes,” she breathes, because it really is better than any other time she’s done this with just her hands. It’s wet and hot and every touch feels electric, and even though her fingers are cramping up she can’t stop now, because he hasn’t told her to, and she’s damn near out of her mind with need. “Please, Johnny, please, can I? Please, let me come,” she babbles. His eyes grow darker as he watches her, and the intensity of it makes her look away, pulling at her lower lip with her teeth.

“Look at me,” he says. “Look at me,” he says again when she doesn’t, in that tone that makes her helpless to do anything but what he demands. She forces her gaze to meet his. “I want to watch you while you come.” Her legs shake as she nears the edge. “That’s it, V, come on, just let go.”

And she does, tipping over into what must be that hardest orgasm of her life. Her body spasms at the throbbing waves of pleasure radiating from her clit as her mouth falls open and her vision narrows to the dark pools of Johnny’s eyes. He glitches out of existence for a split second, but keeps watching her with hunger that makes her shudder through the aftershocks.

When it’s finally over, her limbs go limp and she sags back against the mattress, chest heaving. She sees Johnny settle beside her out of the corner of her eye.

Rolling over to face him, she can’t help the lazy smile that spreads across her face. “That was... Wow.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Wait, you could feel everything?”

“Not as strongly as you, I don’t think, otherwise I’d be just as much of a drooling mess.” She wants to smack him on the chest for that, but she knows her hand would just phase right through. “But yeah, I could feel it. And now I know how coming feels both ways.”

“Which one’s better?” V asks through a yawn.

“Hard to say. Both’re really, really good, but different, too. I don’t know if I can compare ‘em.” V nods, heavy lidded, and Johnny snorts. “Go to sleep. You could use it.”

V hums, crawling under the covers. “And Johnny? Uh, thanks,” she says.

Johnny lights up another cigarette. “Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, Cyberpunk 2077 is a deeply broken game but I'm having the time of my fucking life. I adore Judy and her romance with my female V, but I keep wishing they made Johnny Silverhand a romance option. Maybe it's the excellent opportunity for slow burn enemies to friends to lovers. Maybe it's that I have a soft spot for ships where they share a body. (It's about the mortifying ordeal of being known, okay?) Maybe it's just that I kind of want to fuck Keanu Reeves. 
> 
> Anyway, I wrote this because inspiration struck, and it might strike again as I keep playing the game, so I'm leaving this open for more chapters. Probably just more one shots, but maybe I'll get dragged into giving this porn a plot.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!!


End file.
